


I bet you didn't know that I was dangerous

by blackkat



Series: Rare Pair Drabbles [27]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Mr. & Mrs. Smith Fusion, Applying only to Juzo, Character Death, Established Relationship, Friendship, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-25 23:15:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17130554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackkat/pseuds/blackkat
Summary: “Your husband’s on the phone,” Rin says cheerfully. “He wants to know what time dinner is.”





	I bet you didn't know that I was dangerous

“Your husband’s on the phone,” Rin says cheerfully. “He wants to know what time dinner is.”

Obito curses under his breath, carefully straightening his coat. “ _Rin_ ,” he hisses. “I'm in the _middle_ of something.”

He can practically hear the roll of Rin's eyes. “Well, you're talking to _me_ , and I'm your _secretary_ , right, Obito? I thought I’d pass on the message.”

Clearly, _clearly_ Rin is never going to let him live down labeling her as his secretary when asked the first time, and Obito groans under his breath, but checks up and down the street for anyone paying close attention to him, then puts his phone back to his ear. “Put him through?” he asks, because Rin tends to hand him his ass whenever he so much as thinks about giving her orders.

“I can do that,” Rin says, deadly sweet. “And your client’s stuck in traffic, so you’ve got an extra five minutes. Ten if I make him take a detour.”

“You're the best,” Obito tells her, and she laughs. A moment later, the line clicks, and Obito turns his back on the hotel behind him, lets a real smile cross his face, and says, “Yahiko, you're back from Suna.”

“Hey, sweetheart,” his husband says cheerfully. “I'm back with gifts. Are you going to be home on time?”

Obito checks his watch, calculating how fast he can possibly get through this job. “A little late, I think,” he says apologetically, because even though all he wants to do is get back to the house, work has to take precedence. “Are you still at the airport?”

“Just leaving,” Yahiko says, and he sounds tired. Obito rubs the spot where his wedding ring usually sits, closing his eyes. Two weeks has managed to feel like forever. “If you’re going to be a bit, though, I’ll swing by the office on my way home, drop off some paperwork.”

Perfect. Yahiko always manages to get caught up at the office. Obito glances up the street, watching the sudden congestion, and smiles. “Dinner at seven?” he suggests.

“Like always,” Yahiko agrees, and his voice softens. “I missed you, Obito.”

“I missed you too, Yahiko.” There's a black car approaching, and Obito turns, crossing the street in the space between cars. “I’ll see you later?”

“Later,” Yahiko confirms. “Love you.”

“I love you, too.” The words are always a little hard to get out, but the fact that it’s Yahiko makes them easier. Obito breathes out, lets his smile slip into something sharper, and pulls the phone from his ear. He hangs up, dropping it into his bag, and heads for the car as it pulls up to the sidewalk. The driver is just getting out, and when he glances over Obito flashes him a smile, small and full of intent, and his eyes widen. He hurries around, pulling the back door open, and a tall man gets out, sporting a scar on his cheek and red tattooed in vertical stripes down the lower half of his face. He nods to the driver, then glances over at Obito as he approaches, and tips his head.

“Jūzō Biwa?” Obito asks, and turns his smile on the man. “I think you ordered room service.”

Jūzō’s brow rises, and he sweeps a look over Obito's long coat and tall boots, then back up to study his scars and the fall of his high ponytail. “I did,” he says, and the curl of his mouth is something hungry. “You're prompt.”

“Maybe a little eager,” Obito says slyly, and the mob boss chuckles. There's a bodyguard sliding out of the other side of the car, but Jūzō shakes his head when the man moves to follow him and instead reaches out, gripping Obito's elbow and pulling him a step closer.

“I like that in someone I'm hiring,” he says, and there's a touch of coolness to it, something assessing. Obito lets his eyes go wide, lets himself look taken aback as Jūzō leans in to loom over him, and a moment later Jūzō draws back, apparently satisfied. “I've got a meeting to get to soon, but you're with me for the whole night, aren’t you?”

“However long you want,” Obito promises, and lets the man guide him into the hotel. The elevator is just arriving, and the bodyguard waves away the one group who look like they want to get on. As the door closes on the lobby, Obito breathes out, shifts his weight ever so slightly to the left as a hand settles on his hip. Jūzō leans in close again, and hums, low and thoughtful.

“That might take a while,” he says, and looks at the number above the door. “Let’s get you settled in the room. You can be my reward for suffering through a meeting with the old man.”

The steady red light on the camera in the corner flickers once, then again twice, and then once, and Obito smiles. Rin's definitely the best.

“How about you just skip your meeting?” he proposes, looking up at Jūzō from underneath his lashes. He leans in, splaying a hand over the man’s chest, and very carefully pulls the pistol from the top of his thigh-high boots with his other hand.

Jūzō snorts, but he hooks a hand around Obito's waist, pulls him a step closer. “You're a nice piece of ass,” he says, “but not that nice.”

“Too bad,” Obito says, and glances up to meet his eyes. “You know, someone _really_ doesn’t want you to make that meeting.”

Jūzō’s eyes widen. “What—”

One shot is all it takes.

Obito breathes out, steps back as the man crumples, and reaches up to turn on the earpiece. “Rin, where’s my way out?”

“I'm stopping the car between floors,” Rin reports. “Climb up, and there should be a service shaft to your left. It opens out in a back hall.”

“Why do people have to think heels are hot,” Obito mutters, but he hooks a foot in the waist-high railing, grabs the edge of the service hatch, and throws it open. A hard push off gives him enough leverage to swing up, twist through, and roll out onto the roof of the car as it groans to a stop.

“Because you're short without them,” Rin says mercilessly.

“You’re so _mean_ to me,” Obito complains, but he catches the bottom rung of the ladder set into the wall of the shaft and starts climbing. The service shaft is about ten feet up, just wide enough for him to fit through, and he pushes the doors open, then slides out through the gap and drops to the floor. “Besides, Yahiko says they make my ass look great.”

Rin laughs. “There's your answer, then. Elevator bank is at the end of the hall, and Jūzō’s guards just left the lobby.”

Perfect. Obito picks up his pace, walking quickly to the elevators, and smiles when the doors open just as he approaches. “Have I mentioned you're the best?”

“It’s always nice to hear it again,” Rin says cheerfully. “Take the exit on the west side of the building. There should be a cab waiting.”

Obito makes a sound of affirmation, then taps his earpiece once to let her know he’s going silent and settles back against the far wall. He makes a show of checking his phone as the elevator makes a stop on the next floor, but the two businessmen who get in are talking sports and don’t even glance at him. they keep talking all the way to the ground floor, and Obito makes sure he’s half-hidden behind them as he gets out, immediately turning for the doors. The driver and bodyguard aren’t in evidence, but he tugs the tie out of his hair, lets it fall around his shoulders to hide his face a little more, and lengthens his stride as he approaches the cab.

“The station, please,” he says, sliding in to the back seat, and casts a quick glance back out the window as the driver nods and starts the engine. For half an instant he thinks he sees Yahiko's distinctive orange hair inside the building, but when he glances back there's no sign of anyone who looks like his husband. And besides, there's no reason Yahiko would be here of all places, especially since he just got back from Suna.

Obito's just missed him, that’s all. It’s making him see things.

 

 

“Oh, _damn it_ ,” Yahiko hisses. “I'm going to be late for dinner!”

“I thought you said Obito was a terrible cook,” Nagato says without looking up from the cut he’s disinfecting.

“He is,” Yahiko says, a little guiltily. “But I don’t want to go home for the _food_ , I want to go home for _him_. Don’t wrinkle your nose at me, _I_ married a hot architect and you still live with your _cousin_.”

“Kushina’s kill-count is higher than yours,” Nagato says dryly. “And you're disgusting.”

“I'm in _love_ ,” Yahiko insists, and it hasn’t gotten any less true in the past six years. “One day you’ll meet someone nice and then you’ll know exactly what I mean.”

“Spare me,” Nagato mutters, but he slaps a fake skin bandage over the graze and straightens. “I can't believe you got shot.”

“Grazed, I got _grazed_ , and how was I supposed to know that someone had assassinated the old man’s heir less than ten minutes before?” Yahiko complains, but he slides off the table and takes the fresh pair of slacks that Nagato tosses at him. “And I killed him, didn’t I?”

“After a completely unnecessary shootout,” Nagato reminds him, and holds up a red gift bag.

“ _Lifesaver_ ,” Yahiko says gratefully, grabbing it. He checks the contents—not that he doesn’t trust Nagato, but he should probably know what he supposedly got for Obito on his trip—and whistles. “No way your taste is this good, Mr. I-Still-Think-Emo-Skater-Hair-Is-Cool. Who helped?”

“Konan,” Nagato says, though he gives Yahiko an annoyed look. Though the entirely blinding curtain of his hair, so. That’s pretty much winning the argument for Yahiko. Score. “And I called a car. Can you please leave?”

“I'm going to tell Kushina to set you up on a blind date,” Yahiko threatens, but he pulls his jacket on, grabs the suitcase that’s been artfully arranged to look like he’s been living out of it for the last two weeks, and then asks, “No immediate jobs?”

Nagato checks the nearest computer, then shakes his head. “Nothing for at least four days,” he says. “If we get anything else I’ll let you know.”

Yahiko offers him a lazy salute, then heads out of the office, down the hall, and out of the building. The waiting car is familiar, and he waves to the driver, but doesn’t stop to talk as he settles in, then leans back and closes his eyes.

It’s going to be good to get home, even if he is late. The job in Kiri took twice as long as he intended, and then to have this disaster of a hit when he got back to the city—it’s frustrating. He’s usually got more of a handle on things than this. But someone took out Jūzō Biwa maybe ten _minutes_ before he got there, and that made the original plan of pretending to be drunk when he burst into the meeting room to take out Jūzō’s father a hell of a lot more dangerous. If Yahiko ever meets the asshole who did it—

“We’ve arrived, sir,” the driver says, and Yahiko startles out of his half-doze, surprised to find the familiar brownstone waiting. He slides out, hauling his suitcase with him, and gives the driver a murmured thanks, then hurried up the stairs, trying to find his keys.

He needn’t have bothered, because there's the clatter of the deadbolt being drawn, and then the door flies open. With a crow, Yahiko lunges, dropping his suitcase and the giftbag, and wraps his arms around Obito, whirling off his feet with a heave. Obito is laughing, bright and happy, and even as Yahiko spins him around the stoop he grabs Yahiko's ears, leans in and kisses him hard.

“Mmm,” Yahiko hums, tipping his head to get closer, because Obito's mouth is sweet and hot and tastes like the cinnamon candy he likes, and Yahiko has been deprived of kissing him for _two weeks_ now. It’s a travesty. “Welcome home to you, too.”

Obito laughs, right against his mouth. His hair is falling around his face, and he’s _easily_ the most beautiful thing Yahiko has ever seen. “Welcome home,” he says, and once his feet settle on the ground he lifts up to kiss Yahiko again, light and lingering. “How was Suna?”

“Terrible,” Yahiko says with utmost sincerity. “Suna doesn’t have you.”

Obito snickers, but when Yahiko collects his suitcase, he gets the door, holding it open so Yahiko can stumble in. “You're a sap,” he accuses.

“Sweet,” Yahiko counters, then catches sight of the thigh-high boots by the coatrack. “Oh, wow, have I been good or bad? Can it be both?”

Obito rolls his eyes, but he’s grinning, and he lets Yahiko catch him by the waist and pull him close again. “Why did I even marry you, you ham.”

“A bout of extended poor taste,” Yahiko says, then dangles the gift bag in front of him. “I have bribes to make up for it?”

It earns him another kiss as Obito takes the bag. “You didn’t have to get me anything,” he says. “Just you coming home is good enough.”

“Now who’s the sap?” Yahiko accuses, but he grins at Obito's sharply indrawn breath as he pulls the necklace out.

“You,” Obito says, a little rough. “This is—”

“A memorial coin, from the hotel where we met,” Yahiko confirms. “Happy late anniversary. I am complete trash for missing it, but—”

Obito kisses him before he can finish, and he hauls Yahiko back towards the bedroom without pause. Yahiko goes happily, sliding his hands under cloth to find warm skin, dumping his shirt to the side when Obito pulls it off of him. His thigh twinges just a little as they stumble out of their pants, but—

This is too good an evening to be spoiled by thoughts of asshole assassins stealing his targets. Yahiko has the most beautiful man in the world in his arms, and he’s finally home. He’s absolutely going to make the most of it.

**Author's Note:**

> If you want to find me on Tumblr, I'm blackkatmagick.


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